Porcelain
by DeviWan
Summary: When he was twelve, that’s when I first met him.The way he walks; slow and graceful.I remembered sitting with him through sunset.I remembered staring at him as he finally let his guard down.And I don’t care if it’s hell, as long as I have him, its heaven


Title: Porcelain

Pairing: Pein/Itachi

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, period.

Porcelain

When he was twelve, that's when I first met him. His potentials reached Madara's eyes, so the immortal man sent me to recruit him. The boy accepted my invitation to join the Akatsuki and I was immediately suspicious. The boy had a wonderful home in a village that loved him, so why on earth would he want to be a missing nin? A few weeks later I found out why. The boy had massacred his own kin. I heard it as a rumour, so I instantly didn't believe it. You could never rely on those chatty old women to deliver important information. Plus, I really doubt a small boy such as himself could kill a large clan like the Uchiha.

When I got back to the main base, I almost immediately swallowed my own words. Because there he was, waiting for me in front of my office, dripping wet with both rain and blood. His eyes were red and puffy and his lips looked so plumped and soft. That night I remembered my cold, dead heart beating wildly. I really could've sworn that I have never seen anything so beautiful. I knew that he must've been crying, I just wished that he was still doing it. Oh well, I'll take what the gods gave me.

I vaguely remembered giving him the Akatsuki cloak, in the smallest size possible, and a ring. Ha-ha, see the pun? Anyways, I assigned him to Hoshigaki Kisame, a shark-like man who's almost twice the boy's size. He'll grow into it. Then that bastard Orochimaru tried to take over his beautiful body. The idiot, he completely underestimated the small boy. Ashamed and vengeance, he fled from our organisation and built his own village; The Village Hidden of Sound.

I felt pride when the boy turned eighteen. I had watched as he grew bigger and got stronger. I saw him in battles only once or twice, but I could honestly say that he was wonderful. He killed his way through enemies without a second chance and came back to the base dripping in blood. Blood that wasn't even his own. I suppose I could understand why he doesn't give second glances to the one he killed. The boy simply hates violence. Kisame, his partner, always reported that before every fight, Itachi would always try to talk to the enemies first. But his foolish enemies always took his peacefulness as arrogance, so it always ended in blood shed.

After his eighteenth birthday, I started to notice something's in him that I shouldn't, like the way he walks; slow and graceful. Then I started noticing the way his hair swayed as he walked and how his delicate fingers ran through his hair as a habit. A habit that I wanted to make mine. I thought I had a problem and consulted Konan, who lazily gave me one simple answer. She thought that I was falling in love. Pft, what ridiculous non-sense.

I remembered one mission in particular. I sent him and Kisame to capture the Kyuubi's host. Kisame gave me the mission report and I almost immediately went out to the back garden, where I saw Itachi resting against a tree with his eyes closed. I couldn't really say that I understood what he must have felt. Madara had told me the truth; why he killed off his clan and why he let his brother live. He was a very good actor, to be able to act as a cold hearted missing nin everyday, to act as if he cared nothing about what his brother felt and killed his family to test his skills. He must be in so much pain.

That afternoon I remembered sitting with him through sunset, just running my fingers through his soft hair. I remembered staring at him as he finally let his guard down. I marvelled at his beautiful hair, his petite form and his soft, porcelain skin. If things were different, if we somehow lived in another universe, I would ask him to spend the rest of his life with me. It didn't happen though, we lived here and we were criminals. That was how it was going to be. The next day he looked at me like all the other members; like nothing had happen. But I understood he could never afford to trust anyone completely.

Three years later and that stupid brother of his hunted him down. Obviously he wanted his brother to find him, otherwise he would never be found if he didn't want to be. A few hours later Zetsu reported to me that Uchia Itachi was dead; killed by his own brother at the age of twenty-one at the old Uchiha Shrine. That day I would forever remember as the day that I thought I might have died. My throat tightened as my heart sent painful electricity through limbs, freezing me in place. My chest tightened too, and a heart splitting headache at the base of my head had my eyes moistened at the pain. The emotional pain hurt so bad that it became physical. I was barely able to breathe. I thought I might've died from the sheer pain.

xxxXXXxxxXXXxxx

I prepared myself for my next and hopefully last mission. Many attempts have failed, so I was sent personally to capture the nine tailed fox's Jinchuuriki. The risk is high, very high, but I didn't care. Hopefully I will be able to capture the blond boy and he'll be strong enough to kill me in the process. Anything to be with my Itachi, absolutely anything. Konan had been right all along; I was in love with Itachi. I don't know how it happened or when it happened, but I just know that I'm in love. Then I watched as the Windmill Rasengan came at me, towards my chest. Oh, finally.

xxxXXXxxxXXXxxx

I gently lay him down as if he was made of precious glass. He stared at me with such loving eyes that made me into jelly. I softly traced my fingers along his jaw line, rubbing my thumb against his bottom lip. They are so tempting, they tempted me and I gave in. I leaned in slowly and lovingly brushed my lips upon his. I leaned back and devour the purely beautiful sight in front of me. His hair was out of its usual pony-tail and lay spread on the red silk, giving him a dark divine look. The moon outside made his exotic porcelain skin glow, his dark hair only compliments it. I marvel at the angry, hot red marks on his slim shoulder, his chest and every where else. I peck his button nose and whispered, "I love you," I added another peck, "Very much".

"I love you too, but we should probably go. We are in hell after all," and he was right. Despite his unwillingness to massacre his clan, he was still the one who shed blood. And me, I'm just here for a lot of reasons. And I don't care if it's hell, as long as I have him, I'm in heaven.

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This is only my third oneshot. There'll definately be more.  
Please review, I love it when readers review.


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